


The Kievan Rus

by Klaudie



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2019-01-20 12:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klaudie/pseuds/Klaudie
Summary: People have cracks, places that break easily, that are sensitive to touch. They have their buttons, their strings. They react to them being pushed and pulled differently. Some shatter. Some snap. Some build their walls higher. But, all in all, they all share one thing in common. They're all broken. Their souls have cracks. And they're not easily repairable. R/R





	1. Cold-Hearted

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted on my Fanfiction.net account.

**The Kievan Rus**

**Chapter 1**

**Cold-Hearted**

* * *

  **Belarus**

* * *

_"She was too quiet, or she was too loud. She took things too seriously, or not seriously at all. She was too sensitive, or too cold-hearted. She hated with every fibre of her being, or loved with every piece of her heart. There was no in-between for her. It was either all or nothing. She wanted everything but settled for nothing."_

\- Unknown

* * *

Natalya had always been a mystery to predict. Unpredictable, they'd say, and shake their heads. No one could ever tell what she was feeling, could tell how she'd react to something, and most of the time, she'd always react the way no one would expect. People gave up long ago trying to understand her, what rhythm her heart beat to, and let her be.

Her world was a hurricane

Some days, she was meek and silent. She'd curl up in her room and cry herself to sleep, communicate with only nods and shrugs, and internally break inside over and over.

Other days, she was brash and loud. She'd go out in public, do what she wanted, when she wanted, would yell as loudly as she felt like, and say whatever she felt like saying. She'd externally break over and over again, and even when someone could clearly see it, they never said a word.

When she tried to act normal, people got confused. Her guise was always too see through, they'd tell her that she was acting fake, flakey, the list went on and on, but when she acted how she felt they told her that she was a freak. A psycho. She tried to conform, but when she put on that mask, it was either too much of one thing or too little of another, and she was sick and tired to being told so.

Her relationships with people were just as fickle and capricious. The people she loved the most were the people that she had the most strained relationships with and were the people that she got the most self-conscious with, and she tended to be more open with the people she liked least because she didn't care of what they thought of her. There was no middle ground, everything was either black and white, in bolded print, or nothing.

The reality of it was that she wanted to be loved for who she was, but she also wanted to be normal, and people had made it clear that who she was was unlovable. The whole world was out there, and she seemed approval from every corner of it, but when one corner rejected her, she'd turn from it. It hurt. Constant rejection hurt.

Unpredictable was the one adjective she'd never dispute about when it came to her.

Even she agreed with it.

She was unpredictable.

She was predictably unpredictable.

A paradox, her mother, the late Kievan Rus, would call it, a statement that contradicts itself, and when deciphered definition by definition, makes even less sense, but when used verbally makes perfect sense in someone's head. The sentence itself was a liar's paradox. It was like that sentence pair where the first sentence says that the following statement is true, but the following statement says that the preceding statement was false.

Confusing.

Another word that people called her.

People called her so many things, and none her name. Natasha. They'd call her a psycho, insane, maniac, stalker, and numerous other things, none too kind. Belarus, if she was lucky, which she rarely was. No one but her siblings called her Natalya, her preferred name, and they were required by default. It hurt.

But she lived with it.

* * *

_"She is a paradox. She is faithful and yet detached. She is committed and yet relaxed. She loves everyone, and yet no one. She is sociable but also a loner. She is gentle and yet tough. She is passionate but can also be platonic. In short, she is predictable in her unpredictability."_

\- Unknown


	2. Chapter: Explain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Russia as a character because he's cruel and can't follow social cues, but Himaruya has directly stated that Russia is unaware of his general cruelty and awkwardness. He's a fun character to write about, but he's also really hard to write with because of this. So this chapter was both fun and annoying to write.

**The Kievan Rus**

**Chapter 2**

**Explain**

* * *

  **Russia**

* * *

_"I don't think people understand how stressful it is to explain what's going on in your head when you don't even understand it yourself."_

\- Sara Quin

* * *

Ivan had no idea why he did the things he did.

Absolutely no clue.

Sometimes, he'd just suddenly snap and rouse later, not remembering anything that he did, hands covered in the blood of those he held close to him. The feeling waking up later with no memory felt like being doused in the face with a bucket of ice and freezing cold water, and the feeling of realizing that he had snapped again felt like a dozen sharp punches to the groin, except the pain was in his heart.

It hurt even more when he was told what he had done.

Later, people would stay away from him, send him worried, scared looks and stay as far away from him as humanly possible, lest he snap again and hurt them this time around. Fear kept them away from him, and he hated being alone, so he'd use force to make them stay with him.

Most of the time, that was more effective at doing the opposite of the intended and only strained their relationships more and actively and efficiently shoved them even further away than letting them go peacefully would have.

This sort of behavior taught him that people were precious possessions, objects, even, that Ivan would have to claim and defend to keep them from leaving, and if they still persisted in attempts of leaving, he'd have to break them to get them to stay.

That made them resent him more.

And he'd snap.

Blood-coated hands, waking up when he was already wide awake, tears, Ivan was used to it all.

He just never knew how to explain it.

People would demand an explanation, ask him why, and he'd try to tell them that he didn't know. He never knew why he snapped, and he was doubtful that he'd learn in the future.

They'd just give him a questioning look or a doubtful glare that suggested that they didn't believe that. Ivan could tell that they probably believed that he was lying to maintain his "good reputation."

Not that he necessarily had one.

He could tell from the way Raivis stuttered when speaking to him, from the way Lithuania shook when he touched him, from the was Estonia had the tendency to mess something up that he normally aced when Ivan wasn't in the room, from the way people got jittery around him, and from the way that the others avoided him that he was feared, and being feared is not the same as being loved.

Then there were the exceptions. There was Alfred, who'd normally greet him with some sarcastic remark and a grin when he'd enter the room, but Alfred greeted everyone that way.

There was Ludwig, who was normally impassive to Ivan's anger, and reacted quite calmly when he snapped. But Ludwig always acted that way to everyone, and never seemed to show any sort of fear.

There was Gilbert, whom, back during the era of the Berlin Wall, would never stop rebelling in some secret way against Ivan, even when he had pledged his allegiance to Russia. But Gilbert would never give up and stop questioning authority, that kid was just too stubborn to do so.

Then there was Katyusha, but even she was afraid of him at times. He had snapped with her on the occasion, mainly during the era of the Soviet Union and during World War Two, and she had forgave him, or so she claimed, but he could see the fear in her eyes on the occasion that he came close to snapping, and the pain in her eyes when talking with him about it. Those scars he had given her would always remain, and that stung a lot. She loved and had forgiven him, but that didn't erase the fear.

Then there was Natalya. She loved him, but he always pushed her away because not only was she his sister, but she had never seen him snap. He wasn't sure how this was possible, because she was always clinging to him in one way, shape, or form, but she had never seen him snap, let alone be the victim of a snapping, and she didn't know how much of a monster he truly was. He had to protect her from that, lest he lose the one person who didn't fear him.

Snapping destroyed him inside bit by bit, and it isolated him further and further from those he loved but didn't love him back, and propelled him further into an eternal winter of sadness and snow and the cold.

He'd always try to apologize after snapping, but words meant nothing, he had learned, and promises to never do it again were very hard to withhold, especially when he had no control over the matter. And it stung, seeing the people he viewed as friends be pushed away by his own behavior. He tried to comprehend that he hurt them, and that he was cruel to him, but he carried no memory of ever acting that way and didn't know how to stop acting like that.

Those who didn't know him well would always demand an explanation for why.

Explaining it was the hardest.

He didn't understand how people worked, how to follow social cues, what was and wasn't normal.

Years of abuse, fighting, warfare, internal fighting, and psychological damage had cracked his mind and left it wide open to damage and reception of the abnormal.

His mind was cracked as a result of this, held together only by a few fraying, delicate threads that could snap and break at any given moment.

He didn't understand himself and why his mind worked the way it did.

How could he be expected to understand, let alone explain himself?

* * *

_"From the outside looking in, it's hard to understand. From the inside looking out, it's hard to explain."_

\- Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Ok. Discussion time. One of my headcanons is that Russia is prone to periods where he just snaps, and rouses from that later, with no memory of what he has done. Another one is that the Soviet Union had a personification with no body, so it took residence in Russia's body, and when Russia randomly snaps or hurts someone, it is because Soviet has taken control. Russia can still hear Soviet sometimes as a voice in the back of his mind, and Soviet scares him. A lot. More than Belarus ever could. (Sorry Bela, but you do scare him.) At more than one point in history did Russia hurt Ukraine. (I'm talking about the countries now.) A good example of this was the Holodomor in Soviet Ukraine, which was a man-made famine. It's a little controversial on the topic of why the Soviet government ordered it, but the gist of it is that the government sharply increased Ukraine's production quotas, ensuring that they could not be met, starvation became incredibly common, and later the government passed laws allowing execution for stealing even the tiniest bit of food. There's more information at website online. It was a sick time, and there were other events, some much more recent than others that it would have made sense for Russia to have snapped with Ukraine. Russia wants to kind of protect Belarus and ensure that he doesn't snap with her, but it's hard for him to do when she clings to him. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, and thanks for taking the time to read it! Please leave a review, I don't bite, I swear! Ciao!


	3. Chapter 3: Anxious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the last chapter of The Kievan Rus, and it's Ukraine's time to shine. I mention Ancient Rome, Germania, Ancient Egypt, Britannia, and Gaul in this. Ancient Rome is Romulus, Germania is Alaric, Ancient Egypt is Neith, Britannia is Boudicca, and Gaul is Liliola.

**The Kievan Rus**

**Chapter 3**

**Anxious**

* * *

  **Ukraine**

* * *

_"Deep inside, she knew who she was, and that person was smart and kind and often even funny, but somehow, her personality always got lost somewhere between her heart and her mouth, and she found herself saying the wrong thing or, more often, nothing at all."_

\- Julia Quinn

* * *

Katyusha has always had problems talking to others.

It would happen in the middle of the conversation, after she finally worked up enough nerve to say something, and she'd see the people around her giggling and realize that she said something weird again.

She'd nervously wave her hands in the air and flusteredly correct herself, but that didn't stop the laughter. Inwardly she'd slump and return to her corner of mind and outwardly she'd act like she didn't care, but she really did.

She really did.

It hurts getting things wrong, saying the wrong thing, and getting laughed at because of her mistake.

In her mind, she'd plot out the perfect conversation, topic, or response, but when she'd say it aloud, she'd realize the mistakes in her logic or say it wrong.

Katyusha had no idea where she got it from. Natalya had no problem saying what she meant, and although Ivan was a little oblivious to social cues, he wasn't socially awkward like she was, and he didn't get nervous talking to others. Her mother had always been assertive and had always gotten what she wanted, when she wanted it, but then again, her mother had also been incredibly intimidating, much more so than Ivan, and would scare the living hell out of Romulus and Alaric and laugh about it later with Neith, Boudicca, Liliola, so maybe that was just Katyusha. But she still had no idea where she got it from, or if she got it from anyone.

For as long as she could remember, in the middle of a normal conversation she'd randomly blurt something out that she didn't mean, and almost immediately realize later just how weird she sounded or how that could have hurt someone.

It was better when she was speaking her native language, Ukrainian, because she was familiar and comfortable with it, but because most of the countries didn't speak it natively, she had to speak English, or another language like Mandarin or Spanish, and that made her nervous because it wasn't her native language and she knew that her accent butchered it.

She'd frequently panic in the middle of a conversation, completely lose her train of thought, and trail off and forget about what she was talking about.

She knew that she was one of the only countries who did this, who was this socially awkward. The idea of being too interactive made her feel like she was going to throw up, panic, and feel sick. She desperately wanted to be normal, to not deal with this, but being in social situations overwhelmed her.

Being normal was kind of like an unattainable wish that she knew she'd never achieve, so she simply watched luckier people talk with others with no problem, and desperately wish that she could be like that, that she could hold a conversation that well. But she knew that if she was presented such a situation she'd have a nervous breakdown, so she simply watched from afar and wished, wished that she could be normal.

When she was a child, she really did used to try to act normal, and she was much more social than she was now.

But she learned quickly that it wouldn't just go away, and she eventually gave up on the hope of being normal.

And now, if she didn't have to befriend others because her boss told her to, she would have had given up on talking long ago.

* * *

_"I'm a lonely person at heart. I need people, but my social anxiety prevents me from being happy."_

\- Unknown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A big headcanon of mine is that Ukraine is very socially awkward and gets social anxiety. She really wants to make friends, but she has problems making them and problems keeping them, so most of the time she kind of watches from afar longing for them but not really making them until someone introduces her to someone. She has the tendency to say things she doesn't mean, and years of doing stuff like that affected her as a person. It's why she acts the way she does in the anime and the webcomic/manga. *sighs* I really don't know how much I like this chapter. The concept is fine, I think it's just the writing that is making me cringe. *nervously laughs and retreats to my black hole of self-consciousness and cries and dies inside*

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is the first chapter of a three-shot story featuring Belarus, Russia, and Ukraine, and each chapter will focus on one of the siblings of the Kievan Rus family. (Russia, Ukraine, Belarus) This one focuses on Belarus. (As you can clearly tell.) Also, in this story, I will probably mention someone named Kievan Rus on more than one occasion because a personal headcanon of mine is that Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus had her as a mother figure when they were really little, but like the rest of the ancients, she faded away a very long time ago. I will probably mention her in the near future, but she will not be featured as a prominent character.


End file.
